The Rite of Passage
by Kouta Aburame
Summary: Tristan and Link have parted ways with the Kokiri and stepped upon the vast planes of Hyrule. Now with a new mysterious girl, a dedicated assassin in the shadows, and guards and Gerudo at every corner, our boys are in for a hard time in this epic sequel.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Zelda, but I do own Tristan and the slew of OC's that appear later on in this story. This is the second book in the series and I hope you guys enjoy.

Eternity…

I wonder if any being truly understands the meaning of such a word. I can still remember the time when the trees of these ancient woods were still young, when I was still young. I have watched the millennia pass and the trees grow tall and mighty. Even the Great Deku Tree was no more than a sapling in Hyrule's genesis. How strong he grew under my care, how much I loved his company.

But now he is gone, taken from me by the cruel, ignorant peoples of the world. Those hateful, impatient beasts grew large and plentiful in time, and there existence has brought nothing but pain and misery upon this land of Hyrule. The edge of our woods has served countless battles over the centuries, and I have seen thousands die over trivial tokens of money and land. They squander everything the Goddesses have given them, and have the audacity to call it there own.

But simply enslaving the land was not enough for the greedy Hyilian's; they saw fit to pass judgment upon this world. They twisted the Goddesses credence's, and used their names to ensure tortures and executions far to grizzly to ever imagine, all to satiate their lust for power. It wasn't long before the kings of these lands looked upon themselves as gods, and placed upon themselves the right to purge this world of evil.

It was on that day, five hundred years ago, when the armies came with oil, and set my beloved woods aflame. I watched in horror as the healthy green sprigs charred to lifeless black. The acrid smoke fell thick upon the woods, and the animals fled for fresher air, only to be met by the waiting spears of Hyrule's horsemen.

The forest itself screamed in pain and its haunting wail stung my ears. They destroyed my home, my family, and they laughed while they did it, spouting the will of the Goddesses and all. For the first time in my life, I felt rage in its purest form boil up from somewhere deep within me.

The pain from my wounds, the passing of time, everything was overwhelmed by that unspeakable rage. I felt like a demon as I landed before the first solider, snapping his precious lance in twine, and driving the spear through his open throat. Wave after wave came and fell before my feet but it wasn't enough, it was never enough. The bodies piled around me and even there hardened commander could not keep his men from breaking ranks.

I saw another man, trapped under his horse and fighting for his every breath. My insatiable anger turned to bloodlust and sadistic thoughts filled my head. I was ready to fill this man with a hundred, no, a thousand holes before he met the Goddesses, and I knew I would enjoy every moment of that torture. I hoisted the spear and aimed for his retracted arm, but I just stood there, a wave of doubt washing over me. His eyes were so full of fear; he looked like an innocent animal lying there, helpless before me. I…I couldn't bring myself to finish him; I just ran, ran for the sanctity of the woods and never looked back.

Now, five hundred years have passed since then, and still the wound in my heart has yet to heal. I still do not regret what I did that day, but when I remember that macabre scene, those twisted faces of men whose futures were robbed from them, I cannot help but feel remorse for those who died all too soon.

So do I feel regret for what I've done? Was that sacrifice enough to atone for what they did? No! Nothing the Hyilians could ever do would earn my forgiveness, so why, why did I protect Tristan that time three years ago when I could've left him, a round ear, to die in the shelter of that tree? Maybe it was to atone for what I'd done, or maybe it was that childish smile that so enchanted me. No matter the reason, I saved Tristan that day, and maybe because of that my frozen heart has begun to finally thaw.

Today will be two-thousand, three hundred, and eighty-third birthday, but even with my heart so scarred, I can still smile, knowing that their are good natured souls like Tristan and Link who live in this world.

Maybe they will be the ones to bring the peace I have so longed for.

Or maybe it is just a foolish dream from a foolish child.

-_"Kokiri's Eve" Saria_-

* * *

**Authors Note: **Man Saria's quite dark isn't she?Please review and tell me what you guys thought.


	2. Tension

**Authors Note**: Sorry for the long hiatus, school has been crazy, and coupled with work, there's been no reasonable time to write. Hopefully I can get these chapters up a little faster in the future. Thanks for your reviews, and leave me any comments you have for this chapter.

Chapter 1

The wide open expanses of the Hyrulian fields were as awe inspiring as they were every year when the spring gave way to its blazing cousin summer. Sparse trees sprouted from the ground in sporadic areas, but for the most part, it was just a tumbling endless span of grassy hill. Even on the major outlook over a mile away, you could see the castle against the rocky outcropping behind.

A young girl sat on that very same outlook, surrounded by a vibrant display of colorful flowers. Her oversized dress was patched together with rich, various fabrics that while rich in quality were poorly stitched together as if the fabric was added on one piece at a time. The baby blue eyes that lay teetered in her ear complimented her glimmering blue eyes and nut brown hair.

The castle seemed to have an almost haunting presence as the sun set behind the soaring peak that was the castles highest spire. It was certainly a marvelous sight for any traveler, but the energetic Faust had long since grown tired of the redundant spectacle and held a white chicory to the broken sun beams, positioning it to shimmer perfectly in the azure light before laying it flat, and comparing it to a bishop of a similar hue. She shook her head in disapproval and brushed the two aside turning her attention to a patch of baby's breath.

A nervous tension began to build up somewhere within her as she noticed the sky darken with the receding sun. She knew she had to quickly finish her selection if she wanted to get back to the city before it closed up for the night, yet she might get scolded if the florist did not approve of her arrangement. After all, it was Princess Zelda's birthday tomorrow, and only the best could be selected for her highness.

She held the baby's breath to the light, but this time added a Goron poppy in the center to see a finished result. The small white flowers of the baby's breath perfectly complimented the orange, bulb shaped poppies perfectly, and she felt giddy with excitement. Her hands worked quickly now, shifting from mint, daisies, sage, or any combination of whatever she thought might further divulge the radiant glow. Finally she found the perfect flower, a blue bulb, smaller than the poppy but slightly more vibrant and when placed in the back, was probably her best arrangement yet.

With the sun halfway beneath the horizon, she quickly, yet gently, arranged the floral assortment in her small basket, making sure to bring plenty of excess in case some were crushed and for any tinkering she would be doing that night. Now she was briskly jogging back towards the town, one hand grasping the basket handle, and the other pressing against the stems to keep them from falling out.

A nervous twang of anxiety underlined her sense of urgency even before the castle gates came into view, some nagging, unforeseen sense that someone was watching her. She tried to brush it off, telling herself it was probably a sentry atop the walls, or perhaps the last of the merchant carts entering the city before it closed for the night, but such logic did little to quell her suspicions.

Faust's pace shifted from a pleasant jog to a more urgent stride, and many of her carefully picked flowers shook free of the basket. She never gave the fallen flora a second look as the sun dipped ever lower and the tension grew ever thicker. She thought of simply tossing the cumbersome basket altogether.

No! She thought, resisting the urge to slap herself for the thought. She had picked these flowers in the hopes that Princess Zelda could enjoy them as she stared through her western window. It was why she needed to wait until dusk to cultivate the flowers, and she would not let her efforts go to waste.

But what little resolve that came broke with the beating of her strained heart.

The gates

Were closed…

She was alone.

Sparks danced in the air as Tristan poked the burning coals of their evening fire, his long brown hair falling in greasy clumps across his green clad shoulders. A brown tattered blanket was draped across his shoulders, carefully bundled to prevent it from slipping into the flame. He sighed, and a puff of condensed air wisped through the nipping air.

He was thankful Link had agreed to settle down before the night grew too long. He had heard many stories of people making similar mistakes, and rarely did they ever go well. But sitting around this fire, reading the ancient map in his hands, only served to further his impatience. It had been well over a fortnight since the two of them had left the safety of Kokiri forest, and the only sign of civilization they had encountered was this simple dirt road.

He looked back down at the map they had brought with them, a yellowing, crackled piece of parchment depicting detailed landmarks long since smeared with age and misuse. It was useful for determining the general locations of cities and monuments, but it gave little to no information as to the roads connecting the lands together. The maker hadn't even considered making a legend or a directional compass for guidelines.

They were lucky to find a road that leads northward, but after such a long time, Tristan began to doubt this road even led to the capital city of Hyrule. This road could well lead to the town of Ruto, a small town slightly to the east of the capital. If this map was even half as old as he expected, the town may very well have fallen to ruin decades ago, and even if the town was still standing, it might take them another three or four days to traverse to the castle.

The uncertainty of their situation frustrated him to no end, an irritating itch just beneath the skin where his fingers could not scratch. The stick he was using to coax the fire now meandered through the burning coals as aimlessly as his wandering thoughts and plums of white sparks escaped the pit. Tristan watched as the hot ash cooled from white to red and vanish into the night sky.

Link did not seem to share in his feelings as he fiddled with his ocarina, his eyes closed as his fingers felt for the small holes. It was a plain instrument with no polish or design, but it didn't diminish the smooth contours of its perfectly carved surface. The notes it produced were clear and pure. It was obvious that Saria had put much time and effort into its creation.

But Link too, grew more irritated as the days crawled on. When he heard he was going to leave the forest, he was nervous but excited to see the outside world. Now though, that glee had slowly boiled down to complacency. He was cold and hungry, and the roads simply spanned forever. It was definitely not the adventure he was expecting.

"It's pretty late." Tristan knew the statement was obvious, but neither of them had talked for almost an hour, "I think it's time we turn in for the night."

"What?" Link exclaimed, "But what about dinner?"

Tristan sighed, his shoulders drooping, "The last of the fish I brought with us was for last night's meal. We don't have anything else for tonight."

"Well, maybe if you packed more food, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"I don't want to hear anything from you! You didn't even bring any food to begin with."

"You said you'd take care of everything!"

"No, I told you I'd bring what I could. Stop acting like a child!"

"Why don't you stop acting so bossy?"

"Why you…"

If either of them knew any swear words in Hyilian, the squabble would've been quite profane. All the frustration they felt simply poured out of them. Link leapt over the fire and punched Tristan in the jaw, and Tristan swung wide to hit him in the shoulder. The two tumbled down the hill, each of them tossing, grabbing, and, in Link's case, biting wherever they could.

Then, a terrified screech rang across the plain, bringing an end to their contest. Various rattling sounds quickly followed, and the two boys were once again on their feet, running quickly towards the sound.


	3. Mysterious Rebirth

Chapter 2: Mysterious Rebirth

Surethia glanced between the eight women that pervaded her tent this new moon's night. Most of them exchange nervous glances between themselves, but they quickly straightened whenever her gazed snapped back upon them. She felt the warm metal against the tips of her fingers, her muscles taunt and ready to spring. None of the women here were foolish enough to show it, but their loathing thoughts hung thick like the smell of chaos weed. She was yet too young to be granted the privilege of meeting Lady Chaos, but her time would come she knew when she would be granted the pipe.

Nonetheless, this was not a time to fantasize of future events. Lord Ganondorf had been most gracious with her supplies, granting her a commander's yurt for her mission, along with a small hand selected squad of warriors. Behind her rested braided hemp blanket with a goose feather pillow atop, a rare treat for the desert nomads, and even rarer with they're current situations with they Hylians. She was even granted a support for her oil lantern, which swayed rhythmically above their heads with a dull squeak.

And then there were the ornaments she had earned over years of training and combat. The golden bracers each had a story of their own, along with the ruby studded gold clamp that secured her healthy, raven black hair. They were granted as symbols of her achievements over the twelve years of her life, but she was to remain humble, for even one as strong as her knew the end was as soon as a unseen scorpion underfoot.

The solider across from her spoke up, "Why have you summoned us here?" She asked, a bitter taste upon her lips. Surethia was hardly pleased with that irritable tone, for it often lead to a challenge of her position. Her fingers hovered around the hilt, but she withdrew them. The cool, but not freezing night air had put her into a good mood, and she did not feel like spoiling such a… romantic evening.

She withdrew a map from a pouch on her waist, and laid it in the middle of the circle, where it could catch the most light from the overhanging lantern. It was similar to the map Tristan was using, but this was more updated and even depicted the smaller towns and ranches.

Surethia replied back in her native language, in case there were others prowling their camp. "Lord Ganondorf has given us the task of scouting and updating our information of the other races that inhabit these lands."

She points to the capital, a large castle shaped pog to the north. "Thanks to the Hyilian's peace treaties, this area has become a major route of trade between the races. For this I will send two of you for reconnaissance. Bring back any information you find useful."

"Another troop will head for this town here," she continued, pointing at the town of Ruto, "This is the biggest seaport in the Hylian area, I wish for one of you to keep surveillance of the ships that go in and out of the harbor."

Surethia continued selecting key areas on the map, assigning a individual to each sector. It would be difficult to spy on the Zora's who lived deep in the confines of Zora's river, as well as the Goron's home in Death Mountain, but she was confident in her troops for this assignment, however easy it would've been for her.

All eight of them had been selected and assigned to their target locations, but the one from before spoke up again, this time her voice insulting: "I have yet to hear what your part in this mission will be commander." That last word was dripping with sarcasm.

"There is a particular child heading towards the city with a precious stone in hand. They will have likely stumbled upon this route and taken the main trade roads to the market. I will intercept them and track their progress."

"So you will take the easy job I see," She spat, "how dishonorable of our so called 'leader' to take upon her the easier job."

"This boy is not one to be taken for granted," Surethia retorted, authority driving her words. Her reasons were strong, but Lord Ganondorf had forbidden her to speak of the death of Lady Gohma, making this argument all the more difficult.

"Do you expect us to believe that our Lord is afraid of a little boy? Maybe next he will fear the sand fish." The Gerudo shared a laugh as the humorous comment, but another glare from Surethia silenced them.

"Do not forget that I lead this squad."

"And I say the Lord must've been in the weed if he picked someone such as you to lead us."

Surethia once again surveyed the woman. She was still quite young, a graduate from training around eighteen years old. A small knife lay pressed between the folds of her vest and her left breast, firmly placed and within easy reach. Surethia shifted nervously in her seat.

"What are you implying?" She asked without pause. Any hesitation would only strengthen her position. She could not afford to have conflict amongst her troop.

The woman stood up and withdrew the knife from her sheath. The naked blade gleamed with a hungry light from the lamp overhead. "I challenge your position of leader as is the right of the Nabooru family." Surethia had expected the response, but it did nothing to ease the tension she felt.

Her hand moved quickly to her side. Nabooru reacted, but the familiar glint of a tossed knife did not appear. Rather, Surethia removed the setpiece and dropped it on the table with a soft thud.

"This," she stated, shifting her focus to Nabooru, "comes deep within the confines of the Spirit Temple, where Lady Chaos places her haven in our land. Thirty days I spent in the dunes and thirty days I searched alone for the entrance to the temple. This is the symbol of my accomplishment, forged by Goron hand, blessed by Lady Chaos, and bestowed upon me by Lord Ganondorf himself. Is there one who doubts the sincerity of my claim?"

Nabooru was impressed, but more that the little girl could lie with such a straight face than the supposed achievement. The Trial of the Spirit was not something that a little child could complete alone. She likely swindled the thing from someone in the tribe, and they were to ashamed to call her out on the deed. She would've called foul, but in the slim chance she was somehow right, her life would then be forfeit. And doing it this way, she could claim that prized dagger for her own, and cement her name amongst the tribe.

"What do you wager?" She proclaimed. According to tradition, whoever issued the challenge must not either equal, or surpass the set ante. If she could not, be it by title or tribute, the challenge was void and the challengers family would be shamed.

Nabooru lifted her headpiece and placed it on the table, a simple headband embroidered with sapphire stones.

"This too was also from the deep vaults of the Spirit Temple, bestowed upon me as successor of my family name. It too has been blessed by Lady Chaos and was granted to me by the head of my family. Is they're any of you who doubt its authenticity?"

Nabooru smirked confidently, though the raven-haired girl remained neutral. The Gerudo's argued amongst themselves for several moments and all the while, Nabooru was resisting the urge to grin from ear to ear.

Surethia sighed, "Very well." Her hand slid to the dragon hilt at her back, her fingers unhitching and swinging before the other women could react, bringing the legendary edge upon her challengers keepsake. Nabooru watched as the item shattered beneath the concussive force, leaving the weapon to drive a good five inches into the wooden crate below.

"You intend to call such rubbish a treasure to Lady Chaos?" Her words rang boldly in the tent, shaking the challenger as surely as her shattered headpiece. There was no need for the girl to utter her command. Surethia watched as the remaining women moved to subdue the honorless traitor, slamming her head to the side of her precious weapon.

"What is this?" She managed, feeling her temple throb where it struck the corner, "my claim was genuine."

"Then you are a fool as well as a snake."

Nabooru lashed out at the insult, but the women held her steady, and she received another bash against the crate for her insolence. Tears watered in her eyes as her head pulsed out of junction with her heart.

Surethia retrieved her weapon from the post, "Do you not know?" the girl said, "Lady Chaos despises sapphires." She returned the mythical weapon to its resting place on her back, content to feel the cold steel in its proper place once more.

"You two," she directed, sifting the specifics with her fingers, "take this snake back to Lord Ganondorf. Let him determine your punishment."

And the two women left with their prisoner, dragging the woman who cursed every word she could muster, wriggling and writhing against her bonds. It was the kind of spirit Surethia admired in one of her solders, and yet such was necessary in the art of leading women. She would not be contested, and one small sacrifice was all she needed to bring her restless squad to her unhindered command.

Even as the curses faded beyond the Hyilian fields, she closed her eyes, and wished the prisoner could still be spared. She turned the thought aside, aware there were still many things to be done before the arrival of the dawn.

"And now ladies, it is time to get back to work."

***

"Let go, Tristan!" Link struggled, the hem of his tunic secure in Tristan's iron grip. The boy simply pressed a finger between his lips, and though he understood the source of his friend's urgency, they couldn't expose their cover yet.

Ten skeletons, and several more marched forth from the long unturned soil of the grassy fields. The young girl continued to scream as the knife like appendages dug deep scratches into her ankles. Even so, Tristan kept his head low, his fingers ready on the blade, waiting for the opportune moment. The last thing he wanted was to be taken from behind by these imp-sized skeletons, and protecting the girl would do little good if they all fell into the children's trap.

Another terrible screech, and Link pulled backwards against his cloth restrains. He couldn't just sit here and watch that girl get cut to ribbons. He hardly thought Tristan was simply enjoying the spectacle, but what was he trying to do for Din's sake? They were right there, and yet he just sat like a lump and held him back. Stupid Tristan gripping his tunic, they couldn't sit here for much longer.

And indeed there was little time. A slight change in the wind signaled the appearance of another three troopers, there dirty nails reflecting some invisible light in their eyes. The first two were getting dangerously close to the little girl, beginning to flail their arms in a haphazard and wild fashion. The girl managed to pull away from a high blow, but she fell backwards into the waiting arms of another oncoming stalchild. Tristan gripped his sword, knowing there wouldn't be a girl to save if they didn't move now.

He released the hem of his companion's tunic, his sword sliding from the wooden sheath in the same motion.

"Lets go Link," he whispered. When he turned to see his companion, however, he found only a pile of ruffled clothes at his side.

It didn't take long to locate their owner. Down the hill the Kokiri bumbled, his naked sword in the moonlight, gleaming like his exposed skin as the half nude boy charged the pile of assorted bones. Tristan was on his feet, but Link was already at the bottom of the hill.

The stalchildren turned their heads, clattering their jaws excitably at the bizarre scene that descended upon them. Many of them caught the glimmering Kokiri sword with their eyes, but the unfortunate closest did so with its skull. Link drove down the weapon in a two handed swing, and the skeleton exploded, dust flying everywhere, its skull neatly bisected slightly off center to the left.

Tristan muttered some curse in his native language, already sliding down the hill. Link took another wild swing at his side, clipping another stalchild before it could ready itself, severing the spine between its hallow rib bones. Five more of the creatures came to its aid, but it was already dead before they arrived, its head cracking upon the carpeted floors below.

"I'm coming Link," Tristan yelled.

"I'm fine. Go help the girl!" Link motioned him to stop, backing cautiously away as the children advanced, their claws waving limply at their sides. Tristan gritted his teeth, but he had practiced with the boy nearly everyday back in the Kokiri village and he knew he could fend for himself. A sideways stomp quickly redirected his stride, and he could only hope the boy would live up to his expectations.

The remaining five who huddled around took random swipes, and the girl just barely ducked beneath a wild haymaker, landing on her dress as hands kept her anchored to the ground. Tristan wouldn't give them a second attempt, his legs taking him impossibly fast for a child, his well toned arm smashing his sword flat against the creature's face. He coughed as the frail thing exploded into a fine powder, the body, falling lifeless in a puff of smoke.

Intimidated by the colossal display of brute force, the others hesitated, giving Tristan the room to down a second with little retaliation. The girl watched in wholesome awe the line the sword carved through the creature's exposed torso, suddenly filled with a new, almost forgotten hope. Her fingers attempted to pry her lacerated ankles free, and the fierce sting came on as the bones peeled away from the exposed tissue. Just a bit more, and she could slip her first foot from the imprisoning vice.

She grunted, gave a final relentless yank, but collapsed as her back exploded in a flash of blazing agony. Four poker seared lines, her patchwork dress slashed to tatters, and the cackling clamor of a surprise ambush came dully as she plopped against the ground.

Whatever the boy said next, came out a dull ring in her quieted ears. The world faded to a hazy blur, her head already swirling as her warm spilled into the greedy earth. Tired, her eyes narrow and heavy, she saw the boy kneel next to her and place his warm fingers against the side of her neck. She felt so frigid cold in the summer air as her eyes finally succumbed to the weight, the wind leaving her failing lungs, the world floating into the abyss of cold cold darkness.

**Author's Note:** Well I think I owe an explanation for my long hiatus so here goes. To be honest, I kinda lost interest in this story for a little, and I decided to move on to get a lot of my piling schoolwork out of the way. Since then, I moved on to a new project called "The End of Days", which is about 2/3 completed and will be posted on in weekly chunks when it is finished. In the meantime though, I will work on this story as well, and hopefully post a bit more frequently than I have. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a review telling me what you thought. Your support is always appreciated.

I will attempt to post a new chapter every Wednesday if I can, and will inform you of any real life problems I may have.


	4. World by a Thread

Chapter 3: World by a Thread

"Link, get my pack quickly!" The Kokiri hesitated a moment, stunned by the ever reddening grass, but quickly recollected his crumbling wits. He gave a silent nod to his friend, and sprinted up the hill to the camp.

Tristan momentarily surveyed the surroundings, proceeding with his inspection only when was certain the pack had fallen out. He shifted the head slightly to maintain the airflow.

"Just stay with us, alright?" He said, placing his ear over her lips. Her breathing was soft and ragged, but clearly there, so the claws probably didn't pierce the lungs. The puddle of blood at his feet was much more of a concern at the moment. Already her skin was pale and clammy, and her pulse was beginning to fibrillate when he checked it again. If Link didn't get back here soon…

"Brace yourself," he said, securing the girl's lucid shoulder, "This might hurt a bit."

With a grunt, the muscular boy gently rolled the girl on her side, exposing the deep gashes to the warm prickling moon, bringing another painful cry as her fist tightened against the patchwork dress.

"Good girl," he said, taking note of the discarded wicker close by, its contents spilled in a haphazard trail down the hill.

"That's a wonderful basket," he continued, keeping the distress from his tone, "Do you like picking flowers?"

The girl replied with a shallow nod, her body slightly shuttering from the effort, a bloodless cough hacking from her fluttering lungs. He just had to keep talking, keep her responding, keep her breathing.

"You picked a beautiful bouquet. Is it for your parents?" This wound was terrible. Four parallel gashes, slicing diagonally from the upper right through the soft mesh of red meat. The outer strips must've been three inches, and the others even deeper. These would defiantly need stitches. Hopefully he had some string in his bag.

He barely picked up the reply, spoken this time, but almost imperceptible on the wind: "N-no."

"Tristan!" Down the hill came Link, sprinting in all haste, the bag thumping hard against his back. He slid to a stop, almost slipping on the slippery grass, and landed the satchel next to the tending medic.

A few beads of sweat dotted his face while he panted, still in his underwear dispute sprinting past his discarded tunic. He didn't bother wondering if she would be all right. The girl's fillet back didn't give much room for hope.

"Do you need anything else?" Link asked, getting back to his feet.

Tristan appreciated the vigor, "We can't move her just yet," Tristan said, "bring everything from the camp here and get the tent ready. Then, go collect water from that moat over there, keep as little dirt in it as possible. Make sure the fire stays lit, we'll need it very soon you understand?"

"Of course."

"Then get moving! We don't have much time!" He riffled through the satchel with his unoccupied hand, yanking from the bottom his old t-shirt and jeans, and a large jug thick with a red paste. To think it had been three years since he wore these things. How they reminded him of home.

He grabbed the sleeve in his teeth, and began tearing the thing into strips.

***

It took over an hour for Tristan to finish the procedure, his hands aching and covered in crusting blood as he rested by the warm crackling fire. He had never attempted stitching like that before, and yet it was surprisingly familiar to his dexterous fingers, similar to sewing the seams on his leather boots. It wasn't like that though, and that greasy feel of squeezing the two folded lumps of flesh together. He'd probably never forget it.

He dipped his fingers in the red tinted water to wash his hands yet again, exhausted, his nerves slightly frayed, and slumped down with his traveling companion. The warm rays of the fire on his open palms did little to comfort him, the stark contrast reminding the boy of that frail chill against the girl's skin, the touch of death on a lifeless body. There was even a moment where the little thing stopped breathing altogether, only to miraculously return from the dead a few minutes later. Thank Din she managed to pull through.

All he wanted now was to relax while he could. The blue ball hovering around his eyes however, showed little sympathy for his sunken woes.

"So is she going to be okay?" Came the annoyingly squeaky voice in his ear. Tristan felt like smacking the tiresome creature from the air, but was still thankful for her help in the operation. If it wasn't for her, she might've bled out a long time before, and for that, he decided to consider it even with the irksome sprite.

He sighed heavily, "I've stopped the bleeding," he commented, "but I don't know how well those stitches will hold up." He looked back to the sleeping child, resting soundly with the damp press on her head. "She isn't in any danger at the moment, but we should see a doctor as soon as possible."

"I hope he has some food," Link groaned, "I'm so hungry."

Tristan grinned a bit; glad to see the usual goofball that was his friend, but Navi was hardly of the same opinion. She darted like an angry hornet to lean against the boy's shoulder, digging her feet into the stretchy skin.

"Quit being a baby," she scolded, "Just because you had to go without dinner."

"But I'm still hungry."

"Well there's nothing we can do about that 'till tomorrow." Tristan stated, "I just hope they lower that drawbridge by then."

Link rubbed the upper portion of his arm gingerly; reminded of the slash he received from a particularly reckless stalchild. It was a shallow cut, and Tristan had already bandaged it with a piece of his "jeans," but he didn't look forward to another encounter with the dagger fingered skeletons any time soon. At least they had the fire this time. That gave him a bit more confidence at least.

He stifled a yawn as he turned his feet to warm the toes. In all the excitement, he almost forgot how late it was in the evening, and it was proving hard to keep his eyes open. Tristan was probably more tired then he was though, so he should probably take the first watch tonight. It was the least he could do at this point. The least…he could…mnmn.

Then suddenly, the flame burst with new life, almost catching Link's forward facing feet in a curtain of glowing orange wisps. The kokiri snapped back awake, leaping to his feet, stomping out a fire, which thankfully didn't collect on the durable leather, and panted as the black powder flaked off his boots. His heart was pounding madly in his chest; he certainly wouldn't have any problem staying awake now.

Link muttered a curse, but Tristan was focused on something else altogether.

"She's waking up." Sure enough, the little girls legs were beginning to twitch, her eyes squinting, her arms twisting and turning about. It was the most movement he had seen from the girl in over an hour, and yet the sudden burst of revitalized energy was a cause for great alarm. Tristan knew if the struggling got any worse, the stitches in her back could come undone.

"Link, get the water ready, I'll hold her down."

Link wasn't sure exactly why she needed to be held down, but he didn't attempt to argue the issue. He returned a quick nod and hurried to fetch the nearby jug.

Tristan didn't have to go far to get to the little girl, and he quickly secured her flailing arms, making sure she didn't thrash around from side to side. For her size, she was remarkably strong, and he had to put quite a bit of effort to completely restrain her. She was starting to mutter now, soft groaning noises as the heart pounded in her wrists.

The water sloshed a bit as the container clumsily hit the ground. "Is she going to be alright?" Link asked.

"Its just a nightmare, it'll pass." The flame roared ominously, a final burst of life, a bright sphere of blazing light in an otherwise dark plain.

She could feel them even now, those two blazing spheres, the deep guttural horn as the thing screeched like some terrible creature. She couldn't move, her legs were almost plastered to the ground as she stared entranced into those oncoming lights, that colossal grate almost snorting, the hood almost glaring. All she could do was scream, scream as loud as her lungs could go, and then, the impact.

"Mommy!" The girl bolted against the restraints, and Tristan, so surprised to hear the spoken word, released his grip on the slim wrists. She shot upright, burying her face in Tristan's open shoulder, her fingers tightly gripping the back of the boy's green tunic. "I was so scared."

Tristan could feel the hot tears pouring from her face, staining his tunic, and he placed his arm to cradle the sobbing child.

"Itete yaz zante." The words were out before he realized what he was speaking, and the girl tensed up, pulling away to look him in the eyes.

"Who are you?" She stammered, "Where am I? Where did my mom go?!" The words became increasingly hysteric, panic clear in her eyes, as her breath grew violently spastic.

Tristan could hardly believe his own ears. He raised his fingers to feel the edges of her ears. It wasn't possible, not here in this land of Hyrule. What was going on?

Still skeptical, he cleared his throat, digging deep for those near forgotten words. "Are you alright?" he growled unintentionally. The heavy tones of the language pulled at his throat a bit, a small tingle trickling along his unworked voice box. It might take a while to readjust his voice.

But the words seemed to calm the frightened girl a bit, and her hyper venation began to subside into slower, more controlled breaths. "My back hurts," she cried, her face still pink and wet, "it hurts so much."

Tristan hooked his hand behind the girl's back and pulled her gently to rest on his shoulder. "Just calm down." Thankfully the girl offered little resistance, and Tristan held her against his breast, stroking the coarse strings along the small of her back.

"Its gonna be okay," he said softly, "Your safe now, everything's gonna be alright."

For a moment, it felt like the little girl was going to pull away again, but she stayed, and let Tristan caress the back of her buried head. There were no more words between them, no more rational reason amongst the otherworldly distress, just the continuous wailing as the little girl screamed into his sleeve, crying for something nobody and yet everybody could understand.

Tristan just stroked her frazzled hair, closed his eyes, and whispered softly those comforting words.

"Its gonna be okay."

***

The girl continued to cry into the night; unable to lift her head to face this strange new world that now enveloped her. She could only cry. Cry and cry and squeeze the boy's tunic in her adrenaline-fueled fingers, wishing it were her mother's bosom she could bury herself deep inside. But sooner than she wanted, the weary exhaustion of the night caught up with her once more, and she slowly drifted into slumber upon the boy's open chest.

Tristan supported her head, and laid the girl on her belly by the fire, propping her head with the half empty satchel to keep it clear of the dirt. The silence of the moment, long since permeated into the later portions of the morning, and Link proved unable to stay awake in the depressive atmosphere. Tristan remained awake for long into the night, and it was only the glowing blue fairy that kept him company.

Navi retained her perch on his shoulder, her feet loosely dangling over the towering precipice, her hands stretched back to take her weight. She was the one to break the silence.

"…What do you suppose happened to that girl?"

"I don't know." His voice was cold, a great weight hanging heavy on his Hyilian speech.

"What do you mean you don't know?!" Navi blurted, "You speak the same language as her. Doesn't that mean she's one of your kind?"

"Take a look at her ears, Navi." Tristan knew what the tiny sprite was hinting at. It was why he had left his hair to grow for so many years.

When the imp did look, she was most certainly surprised. A few locks had fallen free from the overarching furl of her head, and she saw clearly the sharp points that distinguished the Hyilian race.

She turned back, unable to disguise the skepticism in her voice. "But how does she know your language round ear?"

"Like I said, I don't know." Tristan never did enjoy Navi's generalizations, but at the moment, it was a trivial tripe.

"…she's been through a lot hasn't she?" Navi stated.

"Feels like her whole world's been flipped upside down."

"So what are you going to do with her?"

"I can't just leave her alone," he replied, "she needs me."

Navi upturned her lip at the expected answer. "How surprisingly noble of you," she sneered.

"The girl doesn't know your language," he stated matter-a-factly, "I can't just leave her knowing that."

"So you're just going to drag her along on our adventure?" she pointed out.

"I don't know." There were a so many things he didn't know, too many things. "I just have to hope something better presents itself in the future."

Navi folded her arms in her knees, her exposed breasts pressing into her glowing thighs. "I suppose you're right." She never liked agreeing with the round ear, but it was making sense this time at least. She could only have faith that the goddesses would reveal her purpose in time.

So the two of sat together in the waning arc of the moon, huddling close to the fire, struggling to stay awake. There would be time for sleep tomorrow he hoped, and that they could finish their task soon. He was ready for the long haul though, and Link would need to be as well. But that was tomorrow, and tomorrow was still so far off.

So…far off….

**Author's Note:** Well as I promised, a new chapter today, and I hope you enjoy. Please leave a review and tell me what you liked or didn't like, as it is always appreciated.


	5. Hyrule Market

Chapter 4: Hyrule Market

A strong frosted breeze pervaded the last of the brutal hours of the morning, and Tristan truly wished for just a few more logs of woods. It was the kind of cold that stuck to the bones, a frigid skin of wet film reclining on his shivering arms like a loathsome freeloader. Navi contributed her glowing warmth to the two sleeping elves, but Tristan was left to his own devices, his thin tunic doing little to shield the summer night's gale.

He truly thanked Din as her marvelous eye opened in the distance, as much content by her soaking warmth as to the sounds he heard from its blazing landscape. It was easily imagined at first between slight delirium and lack of attention, but soon Tristan recognized the fateful whinny that accompanied the grinding of wooden axels. A young girl spoke from far off as he lifted to spot the oncoming vehicle on the road.

"Why are we out this late?!" She exclaimed. Tristan couldn't make out what she was doing, but the larger man on the right seemed to be the focus of her ire. Only a few large crates seemed to accompany the supposed father-daughter duo. That, and of course the old workhorse tugging the stern of the cart.

"I'm sorry Malon, but if I don't get this shipment in by the morning, the King will have my head! And besides, I was busy this evening."

"Probably tapping into the milk stores again."

"Hey don't speak about your father like that," he scolded. His free hand cupped and scratched a particularly itchy spot on his bulbous nose. The bald spot was clearly evident now, and Tristan felt the sleep pull from his bones as the wooden cart neglected the nearby fork.

"Navi."

"Hm, wha?" The blue light fumbled out from the folds of Link's hat, groggily stretching her wrists with a slight crack.

Tristan didn't hide the excitement in his voice, "hurry and get everyone up, there's a cart coming."

"A…cart?" Navi pondered, scratching her wavy hair in a half lit manner. She had never heard of a "cart" before. Was it something to do with the castle?

"I'm gonna ask for his help, make sure you don't let the girl move alright?" Before Navi could protest about taking orders from a round ear, the boy was already bounding over to the main road to intercept the thing. Navi bit her lip in frustration, but decided to go get the children up at this untimely hour of the day. She wasn't doing it for the round ear though. It was all her idea and no one else's.

By now, the rickety sounding vehicle was getting close, and Tristan waved his hands frantically to get their attention. For a moment, the farm hand believed the dark blob in the road to be a boulder, rolled in by some mean spirited kids. Being only slightly impaired though, he was pretty sure rocks didn't shout at them to stop. Confused, he turned to his daughter, his breath smelling thickly of fresh cow juice.

"Hey," he half whispered, "do rocks talk?"

The response was so out there that it took Malon a second to rework what her father had said. After decoding the stupidity though, she administered a healthy smack across his hairy hands, and yanked the rains back to her side.

"Din cursed drunk," she muttered. With a powerful yank, the bridle yanked back the horse's mouth, and a frothy flop of spittle plopped from the corner of its mouth as its powerful engine simmered to a halt. It wasn't a moment too soon, Tristan being able to see the glistening snot in the beast's nostrils, even in such little daylight.

With a rehearsed grace, Malon vaulted from her copilot perch, her white dress providing little hindrance as she sprinted for the startled hitchhiker.

She offered a hand, seeing the boy had lost his footing. "Are you alright?" she asked, "Sorry about my pops, he can be a bit of an airhead at times."

"Um no, its fine." A sunset orange scarf to match her beautiful well kempt hair, the girl had a cute smile annunciated by a slight dimple on the right side of the upturned lip. Her eyes shimmered beautifully in the dim light, and the prominent points of her ears rose from the sea of orange locks like spires in the vast ocean. She was remarkably cute, and Tristan actually found himself blushing, as she pulled him back to his feet, her remarkably strong forearms making the yank almost effortless.

"So what brings you to this town?" She quarried, "usually the foreigners don' start coming 'till around next week or so."

Tristan panicked for a moment, resisting the urge to feel the tips of his ears. Had she seen them when she pulled him up? No, he would've expected a bit more hostility if that were the case. He wanted to figure out why she would think that, but he didn't want to cast any more suspicion on the matter.

There were more important things to consider anyway. "Excuse me, but do you think we can ride in your cart?"

"Well I guess," she said, "but why bother? The gates are only fifteen foot that way."

"My friend was attacked by skeletons last night an-"

"Stalchildr'n?!" She exclaimed, "why didn' you say so earlier?"

Tristan blinked, "you know about those things?"

"Oh yeah," she stated, "nasty things run off with the cattle at' night. Had to dig up the whole farm to get rid of 'em, the nasty critters."

Well it was nice to see she understood the situation, though it was a bit unnerving to hear those things were commonplace in these hills. "I'm afraid to move her at the moment, so can you possibly take us to the local doctor?"

"Where's your friend?" The gruff voice caught both of them off guard, and they turned to see the bold farmhand proudly bolstering his chest. His colossal beer gut was still able to conceal the dramatic show, but Tristan got the message all the same.

Tristan indicated the direction, and the man snuffed, "Malon, get the horses ready to go," he commanded, "I'll be right back with your friend, little guy, so just wait here, will ya?" He then rubbed his large callused hands in a ferocious patting rub on Tristan's sensitive scalp, before stumbling off to finish his duty.

"Hey be careful with her," he winced, tears coming to his eyes from the passionate noggie. He hated being short sometimes, especially when his tiny legs couldn't keep up with the man's lumbering pace.

The girl smiled as the two ran over the crest of the hill and hurried to get the horses prepped. This was turning out to be an interesting day for sure. Maybe next she could get her dad to stop drinking the milk before they could sell it. One miracle at a time she supposed as she took firm grip of the reins.

It wasn't long before her dad was back over the hill, his arms cradling the child ever so gently, and depositing her in the passenger's side of the cart. His cheeks were still a bit rosy when he clambered to the back of the cart, but he still secured a seat for the little boy and his third companion on either side. It was a tight fit, but they managed somehow, and Malon took another casual glance before returning her eyes to the road. This was defiantly going to be an interesting day.

***

"Its huge!"

Link couldn't help but stare as their tiny cart squeaked along the stone covered road. Either side was a collage of massive stone blocks with peaked roofs and the occasional chimney, clear coatings on crossed panes, cloth struts hanging from wooden shutters. It was amazing; to think there was really some place like this outside the forest.

"Do people really live in those places?!" He exclaimed, yanking steadfast at Tristan's sleeve. The boy gave a very somber nod in reply, his eyes half closed, resting his head on the farmhand's rounded belly.

"Of course," the farmhand replied instead, "There ain't many people around now, but just you wait. This place will be packed with people by the peak of noon."

"Really?! Woah." A stray dog trotted down one of the off shooting alleys as they passed, giving them a passing glance before disappearing behind the mortar work at the bend.

"Ya'll act like yu've never seen a town before." Malon stated.

"Yeah, they never had stuff like this in the forest."

"Ah, so ya'll are fairy folk huh?" she said. That would explain the weird clothing, "well its good to have you on board."

The girl cocked her head playfully, and Link rubbed his bashfulness across his heated hair. She really was kinda cute, "so which one is the castle?"

"Well you see that big thing in the distance?" The farmhand said, directing the lad's gaze with his pudgy fingers, "You can only see the towers now, but that there is Hyrule Castle in all its splendor."

Wow, so that's where the princess lives. That was way way waaay taller than any tree in the forest, taller than even the Great Deku Tree, taller than imagination or even the universe! His hand felt the emerald deep in his pockets, his fingers rubbing against the gold veins across its smooth, polished surface. To think they'd have to go there to see the princess; ohhh he couldn't wait!

Really Malon had been excited when she first saw the city too, but nowhere near as much as that boy, his eyes gleaming like a kid at Christmas, fascinated by even the awnings and the wooden poles. Whatever did the fairy folk do without things like this anyway? She couldn't even imagine how they managed.

Feeling slightly alienated, she turned to the girl in the passenger's side, lying on her belly, a bit off color seeing the stictches. The girl sure had a weird habit of feeling up her face, but she didn't think much of it.

"So, you feelin' alright?" The girl hadn't spoken a lick since they started, and she started to feel bad for excluding her.

The girl gave her a confused, inquisitive look, half hiding her face in a nervous sulk from the cheerful farm girl. She was pretty shy, but at least she didn't look to be in pain.

She thought to say something else to break the ice, when Tristan interrupted with a stagnant mutter from behind.

"arfyoeeueolkiangy?" He said? That didn't even sound like Hyilian, all the words just blended into a single uninterruptible slur of syllables, slipping past before she could begin to comprehend the meaning.

The girl fumbled a bit, turning her head to face the reply, "Ifelabeleotetrt."

"Ahtt'sogotdhoear, jsuotd'tmnoearvonutdoomcuh." He cleared his throat of phlegm, rubbing a few partial sandpapery aches from his voice box as he sat up in his seat.

"I'm sorry about that," he said, "she's not very skilled with the language yet and prefers to speak in her home language." The word "tongue" may have been a more appropriate term in English, but he didn't know how it would directly correspond when translated into Hyilian speech. It sounded a bit iffy, but it got the message across all the same.

Malon still looked confused, her brain attempting to comprehend the growling speech. "I see," she nodded, turning her attention back to the front.

The girl kept rubbing her face and the tips of her ears with a compulsive redundancy, but she certainly looked Hyilian enough from her standards. Maybe the ears were beginning to fan out; she knew she tended to rub them too when it started with her, but that led to another conundrum all together.

She took a passive glance to Tristan in peripherals. He certainly seemed the oldest of the three, and yet while the other two had very prominent points, his ears didn't even punch the surface of his hair. Maybe it was just a delayed process for the boy, after all she had seen boys eleven, twelve, or even thirteen years old who still had small ears, but it was something to take note of all the same.

She wasn't able to ponder her conjecture much longer though, since she saw the familiar sign of the town pharmacist on the right side of the lane. Returning back to reality, she secured the reins, and pulled the horse into a gentle trot before finally bringing the magnificent beast to a stop.

"Here we are," she stated, "the doctor's office."

A fairly small place indeed tucked between two much larger shops on either side. Tristan saw the large sign over the top of the mismatched door, still hanging loosely from a brand hook. It read "Chu's Clinic" in big multicolored letters, a thick gelatinous stuff that ran like snot down the creases of the old sign. Tristan glanced nervously at the run down appearance of the shop, but Malon gave him a reassuring smile.

"He may not look the part, but he'll fix you up better than anyone else."

"I hope so," he replied, hardly convinced.

"Well just tell him to put the tab on Lon Lon Ranch. He'll know the place." Tristan helped the patchwork girl step down from the perch; thankful her back could take some stress at least. After Link was off as well, Malon wrapped the reins around her tiny knuckles.

"I'd love to see him myself, but we're already late at it is." A yank on the stirrups, and it was clear the horse was ready to move. The farmhand stumbled up to the front seat in preparation of what was to come.

"The name's Malon by the way, and this drunk is my dad Talon. If you're still here later, we'll show you around town, k?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Then it's a date." She shared a giggle at the boy's bashful reactions, but she was already getting close to her deadline, and she never missed a delivery. A final fierce whip of the reins, and the horse was in a full gallop, nearly shaking one of the top crates loose in the sudden jolt. A large cloud of dust kicked up in their faces, and before the cloud dissipated, the girl was already out of sight, her father bawling far off in the distance.

Link coughed, the dust irritating his ill ready throat. "What was that for?!"

Tristan took point, keeping the girl safe behind as he looked to the creaking saloon doors. "You can wait outside if you want Link, this might take a while." He turned to the girl and took hold of her hand, "are you ready?" he asked.

The girl nodded in reply, a nervous hand still fidgeting with her pointy ears.

"Come to think of it," Tristan remarked, "what's your name anyway?" He felt stupid for not asking earlier, but in the chaos of it all, it never did cross his mind.

"Its Nara," she said anxiously.

"Nice to meet you Nara," he replied, "Now lets get you cleaned up."

**Authors Note:Wendsday again and another chapter for all who have waited. Thanks for reading and tell me what you though, or where I could improve. I am sorry to say though that there will be no new chapter next week, as I will be spending the time working on my other story The End of Days. I hope in the meantime this will be a promising start, and that you look forward to future chapters.**

Until then, leave a review, and I'll see you in two weeks.


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